


Tease

by wackatoshi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Author is Touch-Starved, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Futakuchi Kenji is a Little Shit, Futakuchi's a charming devil, Kissing, No plot just thirst, Post-Workout Kisses, Self-Indulgent, So much kissing, cheeky ending, did i mention kissing?, everyone has a crush on iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28609857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackatoshi/pseuds/wackatoshi
Summary: Kissing him is never a bad time.
Relationships: Futakuchi Kenji/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> *clenches fist* i love this man with everything i am. that is all. i hope u will join the movement

Futakuchi’s fresh from the gym, skin flushed and rosy, a white towel slung loosely over his shoulder. You swear you don’t have any ill intentions when you welcome him back with a quick kiss on his cheek.

(And one on his neck. And a stray hand wandering up his torso. And a smattering of _choice_ words whispered into his ear. You had no intentions, truly. You swear it.)

Just as he’s starting to enjoy this sudden display of affection, you skip away to the living room, humming like nothing ever happened.

“Hey,” he calls after you, sounding dazed and distracted. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

It’s not like he hasn’t pulled the exact same trick on _you_ before. He’s got fire at his fingertips, and he’ll burn one end of your fuse, only to snuff out the flame before it meets your tipping point. Lips barely touching, hands always lingering — long enough to leave you hanging out for something more, begging for another spark.

Now, Futakuchi watches you go, bringing his lower lip between his teeth. He wonders whether it’s worth the effort to chase after you, just to remind you exactly _what_ happens when you rile up a scoundrel like him.

(It is, it always is.)

So without a second thought, he whips the towel off his shoulder, then flings it towards your retreating back. As it hurtles over your head, you spin around to laugh at his expense, only to be swept clean off your feet by a firm arm snagging around your waist.

You shriek in surprise, arms flailing. With a devilish laugh, Kenji swings you around, throwing you down on the couch, and crawls over your body to cage you between his arms. There’s a reckless smirk playing on his lips, boyish and beguiling.

You jab a finger into his chest. “You stink.”

He hovers over you, looking very amused, very pleased with himself. “You didn’t seem to mind two seconds ago.”

“It’s different, you know, when you’re laying on top of me.”

“Hm.”

Kenji could care less. He cups your cheek with his palm, grinning as you squirm at the clammy contact, then dips his head to steal a kiss.

His skin is slick with sweat, making this whole ordeal downright disgusting, and you’re about to tell him so when his lips spread into a smile over yours, a breath of soft laughter pouring into your mouth. You consider letting him have this, _just this once_ , because all in all, kissing Kenji is never a bad time. You’re musing over this as you sigh into his lips, fingers threading through his dishevelled hair, still damp, still…

“Ew, why are you so _sticky_!” you cry, recoiling. 

Futakuchi makes a sound of offence. “What do you mean?”

“You sweat glue or something?”

“Shut up,” he snorts, shaking out his hair. “It’s just hair gel — Oikawa’s, probably. There was barely anyone at the gym today, so we started fooling around, y’know.“

“I swear you guys never even work out,” you groan. “It always goes to hell when Iwaizumi’s not here.”

“Screw him. It’s more fun this way.”

“How _is_ Iwaizumi, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Still sexy?”

You burst into laughter. “Right.”

“Right,” he murmurs, lowering himself again to press his lips to your cheek.

You sigh. “ _Kenji_.”

But he’s barely listening anymore, leaving handfuls of more sloppy, generous kisses all over your face, quickly turning to chaste pecks that dot your cheeks, nose and neck. He shifts and twists until you laugh, until you’re a tangle of limbs, until you’re flustered to his satisfaction.

Futakuchi makes a hum of approval before hoisting himself back up on his elbows to admire his work. His eyes, warm and dark, his gaze, heavy and indulgent – you feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the plush cushions beneath your body, this tantalising proximity thrumming with the sound of your beating hearts.

And God, there’s something sinful about the way he’s looking at you, like he could talk you into any bad idea without uttering a single word.

He knows it, too.

You cast him a look of warning, pushing his chest lightly. “Go and have a shower.”

His face splits into a grin. “Have one with me.”

“You _wish_.”

He scoffs in mock hurt. “What, like you don’t need one now?”

Oh, he’s a nightmare and a half, but worse, he’s right. As you run a hand through your mussed hair, you notice the suspicious new sheen of your skin.

_Gross._

Sometimes, he makes you want to wrap your hands around his neck. But other times, like this, there’s a dreamy adoration about him that softens his eyes, sweetens his smirk, until that lovesick look on his face is enough to trump your rising annoyance.

With lazy reluctance, Futakuchi stretches out like a cat, peeling his body away from you. Once on his feet, he extends a beckoning hand towards you with nothing short of chivalrous flair, paired with a prompting smile.

You chew the inside of your cheek and stare at his open palm, mulling over the invitation.

“Just so you know,” you give in, fingers slipping over his, “I’m washing my hair first.”

Futakuchi pulls you to your feet, acquiescing with a roll of his eyes, “ _Fine_.”

Before you can duck away, he wraps his arms around your waist, leaning in so close you catch that dangerous glint in his eyes, feel that crooked smile grazing your lips. You hitch a breath, and his next words fan over your skin, teasing every single one of your senses.

“Guess I’ll just enjoy the view.”


End file.
